


Merlin Drabbles

by stardust_and_sunlight



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (was Maura16), Angst, Fluff, Humour, Multi, Random - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1788481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardust_and_sunlight/pseuds/stardust_and_sunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A selection of one-shots based on the TV show Merlin. Different pairings and genres. Rated T for possible language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. animate

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing these with the grand intention of writing one a week, based on the word-of-the-week in my planner. Needless to say, that idea very quickly flopped. Whoops. So now I'm posting them here :)   
> All the drabbly stories will be in the Merlin fandom- some will be romantic, some funny, possibly some angst. Some might be linked- some will be better than others. Needless to say, I don't own Merlin, and reviews are beautiful.

_**animate** _

The cushion flew across the room, flipping and twisting in the air as it chased the King of Camelot around his bedchamber, intent on whacking him around the head.

"Merlin!" bellowed Arthur, raising his hands in an attempt to fend off the enchanted pillow. _"Merlin!"_

The door slammed open suddenly and Arthur's Chief Warlock stumbled in, laughing hysterically. The cushion increased its assault, hitting Arthur hard in the face. He let out an 'oof' of surprise, glowering at Merlin. "Stop it, you prat!"

Merlin was doubled over, clutching his side and almost crying with laughter as the cushion battered Arthur's upraised arms, but at Arthur's glare he sighed and flicked his fingers- his eyes flashed gold and the cushion fell to the ground, looking innocent, entirely harmless and completely motionless.

Arthur poked it cautiously with his toe, then stood, hands on hips, blonde hair ridiculously dishevelled, giving Merlin his best kingly glare.

Merlin straightened up, giggling and not at all cowed by Arthur's disapproval. He sauntered into the room, sprawling casually on a chair and selecting a green apple, raising it to his mouth.

The cushion came flying through the air and hit Merlin on the head. He jerked, dropping his apple and letting out an embarrassingly girly shriek.

"What were you doing?!" asked Arthur angrily. Merlin glowered at him insolently. "I was practicing the animating spell," he said grumpily.

Arthur chuckled despite himself. After all, it was funny.

"Well, don't animate my cushions again, okay?"


	2. attribute

_**attribute** _

Gwen hummed as she neatly folded the clothes, feeling ridiculously happy. She had met up with Lancelot last night- they had had a romantic dinner and then just spent the night talking. She smiled at the thought, almost dancing as she hung up Morgana's dresses.

As if called, Morgana slammed into the room in a swirl of expensive silk. Gwen glanced up and sighed, envious. As always, Morgana looked beautiful, every inch the high-born lady- wearing a deep crimson dress with exquisite golden beading, and with her hair in an elaborate twist, held up with sparkling pins. The murderous scowl on her face looked very out of place next to such loveliness.

"Oh, that bloody  _adopted_  brother of mine! Thank god Uther decided against marrying us, I'd probably end up murdering him..." She broke off suddenly and blinked at Gwen. "You look happy!" Gwen beamed.

"I met up with Lancelot last night!" She sighed happily.

"Well, what did you do all night?" asked Morgana suggestively, leaning in close and waggling her eyebrows. Gwen pushed her away, laughing.

"No we just talked! He's so lovely- he's a great listener, so kind and attentive and he has a beautiful voice..." Gwen trailed off, gazing off into the distance dreamily.

Morgana nudged her, an obscene leer on her face. "And then there's his other  _attributes_ of course."

Gwen blushed beetroot.

" _Morgana!"_


	3. interrogate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I use a different part of the verb it still counts, right?

_**interrogate** _

"Where the hell have you been?!" Merlin had barely stepped through the door when Arthur ambushed him.

"Please don't, Arthur," said Merlin wearily, slumping into a chair, exhausted. "I'm not in the mood to be interrogated." Arthur growled in anger.

"Well that's just too bad for you then,  _Mer_ lin!" he barked. "You were gone for hours! I had to get my own dinner, and if I find out you were in the tavern again, so help me..."

Merlin let Arthur's harsh words wash over him. He tried to stay calm, to not shout back, to exercise restraint like Gaius always told him to... But he was bone-tired, and aching from yet another magical encounter with yet another evil creature trying to destroy/kill Camelot/Arthur.

He wanted to stand up and yell, "I was saving your life,  _again_!" He wanted to confide in Arthur. He wanted to tell his best friend everything.

But he couldn't. So he held his tongue, and let Arthur shout at him, and wished he could sleep forever.


	4. adequate

_**adequate** _

Arthur looked at it. "It's an okay size, I suppose," he said distractedly.

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean  _okay_?!"

Arthur groaned, exasperated. "For goodness sake, Merlin, I meant that it's okay!"

At the tone of Arthur's voice, Gwaine wandered over to where the two were standing, eyebrows raised. "What are you two up to?"

Merlin looked imploringly at the knight. "What do you think?" he said, gesturing.

Gwaine glanced down appraisingly. "It's adequate," he said dismissively.

Merlin gasped, indignant. "What? No! It's... I..." he spluttered.

"Merlin,  _please_  be quiet," snapped Arthur, rubbing his temples. "You're giving me a headache."

Merlin looked beseechingly at Gwaine, who chuckled.

"It's not the size that counts, it's what you do with it," he said encouragingly, clapping Merlin on the shoulder and walking away. "Maybe you could find some herbs?"

Merlin gazed at the fish he'd caught and sighed. He stomped over to the fire he'd made and crouched beside it, dejected.

"Adequate," he muttered scathingly.

_"Hmmph."_


	5. auxilary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING- this drabble contains sweet, mild Merthur slash. Nothing graphic or anything, but some people (strange people lol) are offended by Merthur. If that's you, sorry for calling you strange, and you might wanna skip this one.

_**auxiliary** _

"So you see,  _this_ one is the auxiliary verb, and you have to..." Arthur zoned out as Merlin's lilting, soothing voice filled the room. French grammar, while important for a scribe or a translator or a writer, was not really necessary for a crown prince. But Merlin had seemed so happy to be able to teach  _Arthur_  something for a change that he had been quite unable to refuse.

And now Merlin was rabbiting on about conjugating verbs and past participles and god knows what else, looking far too animated and passionate, considering the subject matter- and looking freaking gorgeous too, although he'd never admit to having thought that.

Arthur rested his chin on his hand and gazed at Merlin from under his eyelashes. He loved watching Merlin in moments like these, when he was so unguarded and relaxed. And Arthur had only ever seen Merlin like this when he and Arthur were alone together.

All that Arthur wanted to do was kiss his goofy manservant, distract him from what he was doing and pull him over to the bed. But Merlin looked equal parts calm and excited, talking about French... things, and Arthur knew how rare it was that Merlin snatched some peace.

So for now, Arthur was content to just look at Merlin. Look at his beautiful blue eyes, so focused on the page on front of him. Look at the spiky, dishevelled ebony hair falling in his face. Look at his big adorable ears and his cheekbones so sharp he could cut himself. Look at his lanky limbs and smooth, pale skin.

Because Merlin was happy. And when Merlin was happy, so was Arthur.


	6. unanimous

_**unanimous** _

Merlin gazed up at Arthur. "No!" he said desperately. "Please! I'll do anything!" Arthur just stood there, face impassive, unmoving despite Merlin's pleas.

Merlin looked wildly around the room, searching for a trace of pity. Gwaine. Gaius. Leon. Elyan. Gwen. Percival. All of his friends. All looking straight ahead, not meeting Merlin's anguished gaze.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," said Arthur, and Merlin  _knew_ he was imagining the regretful tone in Arthur's voice. "We voted. It was unanimous." Merlin stared at all his friends, trying to catch someone's eye.

Then Morgana stepped forward, smirking cruelly. "Sorry Merlin," she chuckled. "But you knew the penalties."

"Please!" he begged. "I'm sorry!"

Morgana held out the object she was holding. Merlin winced. Morgana's voice turned ominous. "Too bad. You have no choice. You must accept your punishment." Merlin sighed and stood up.

"Fine! Give me it!" Merlin snapped. Morgana handed it over with an evil grin.

Merlin glared at her and snatched the feathery monstrosity, jamming it onto his head. "Stupid hat," he muttered. There was absolute silence for a heartbeat and then the room was filled with laughter.

Merlin stood stock-still, blowing a stray red feather away from his face, his face twisted into a grimace. Arthur laughed, ruffling the feathers in the hat condescendingly. "Don't worry,  _Mer_ lin, it's only for twenty-four hours!"

Merlin groaned, and Gwen smiled sympathetically. "That is such a terrible hat."

Gwaine chuckled, then leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes happily. "I will remember this moment forever," he said dreamily.

Merlin smiled despite himself, looking round at his friends.

They had made him wear an atrocious hat, they had laughed at him and mocked him... but he knew that they'd be there for him if times got hard.


	7. unequivocal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble was surprisingly difficult to write. I restarted it about ten times, and even now I'm not entirely sure about it...

**_ unequivocal _ **

Merlin groaned, and banged his forehead against the table, instantly regretting it as he felt the sticky traces of spilt beer. "Gwaine?" he said, grimacing in distaste, "why are we here?"

Gwaine chuckled. "Well, Gaius always says you're at the tavern whenever you're actually, you know, doing magic-" he broke off at Merlin's warning hiss, and glanced around. None of the rowdy, drunk patrons had even glanced in their direction, Gwaine's lowered voice entirely drowned out by the raucous laughter and occasional bursts of out-of-tune singing.

"No-one's listening, Merlin," said Gwaine gently. "You need to unwind sometimes. Otherwise you'll explode." Merlin looked down, eyelashes lowered.

"I know," he said. "I just..."

Gwaine smiled sympathetically. "I know, Merlin. I know. But look around! Everyone's drunk, or well on their way. Have a drink, relax. Like I said, you need to have been here at least once, the amount of times Gaius uses the tavern as an alibi for you. Arthur must think you're an alcoholic..."

Merlin smiled faintly. "I suppose one beer wouldn't hurt..."

Gwaine grinned, pushing a tankard across the table towards Merlin and raising his own in the air. "Cheers!"

* * *

 

Merlin let out a triumphant yell. "Haha! All in one! Take that, Gwaine!"

His friend chuckled. "That was okay, I suppose..." he said.

"Okay?" said Merlin, "that was an unequivocal success!"

Gwaine laughed heartily, shoving another flagon of beer into his hand. "You're not drunk enough if you can still use posh words, mate!"

Merlin took a big swig of the foamy drink, smacking his lips happily. "I should come out drinking with you more often Gwaine! It's great fun!" Gwaine smacked him on the back with a loud guffaw, and Merlin slopped his drink down the front of his tunic.

"Good on you! Next round on me!" Gwaine yelled, and the room erupted into cheers and applause.

* * *

 

"-go homeeeeeeee!" Merlin belted out the final note, sounding like a banshee. The patrons cheered and hollered, far too drunk to tell the difference between good and bad singing. He bowed, soaking up the applause, then jumping down from the table. He stumbled on the landing and crashed into a table, righting himself with his usual clumsiness.

Gwaine put an arm around him gently. "We should probably leave now," he said pointedly.

"But why?" slurred Merlin. "I'm having so much fun!"

Gwaine sighed. He was much more sober than Merlin, but still woozy. "Because... Because..." he floundered. "I don't know," he conceded. "Let's just stay!"

Merlin beamed, staggering over to the bar and picking up a new drink. "To a good time! To an unequiv-quivoc-cal-ally-ly... To a good time!"

Gwaine grinned, raising his own drink to his lips and downing it in one.


	8. implode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble follows on from the last one, but it can also stand alone.  
> I was originally intending to take this word prompt in another direction but then I loved drunk Merlin so much I thought I'd try to write hungover Merlin, and here we are!

**_ implode _ **

Merlin slunk back into consciousness slowly and painfully, head throbbing. He could hear a deafening banging and he groaned, flailing at nothing, eyes still tightly shut. He could feel something unpleasantly sticky in his hair, and his left hand was resting in a puddle of what he sincerely hoped was a beverage.

The banging grew louder, and now he could hear a voice too. It sounded angry. He groaned again. "Stop," he said weakly.

There was a niggling thought at the back of his brain, jumping up and down and trying to get his attention. He ignored it. He had more pressing concerns.

What on earth had happened last night? It was coming back to him in sickening bursts of memory. He remembered going to the tavern and agreeing to one drink. He remembered one drink turning into two, and three, and five, and ten... He remembered singing on a table and hurting himself jumping off the table... But he didn't remember going home. He couldn't still be in the tavern, could he?

He reluctantly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright sunlight. Wait. Sunlight? Oh no. The niggling thought he had ignored was yelling at him.

"Oh no," he moaned. "Oh no oh no oh no!" He surveyed his surroundings, his horror growing every second. He was indeed in the tavern, to his dismay- lying awkwardly on a table. His hand was in a spilled pool of lukewarm beer, to his slight relief. Gwaine was sprawled across a chair on the other side of the room- at least he hadn't been abandoned...

The infernal banging got louder, as did the shouting, and Merlin was simultaneously aware of four things.

First, the banging was coming from the door. As in, someone was trying, fairly hard but without much success, to get into the tavern.

Second, he had an absolutely pounding headache and the noise was not helping.

Third, the raised voice was most definitely Arthur.

Fourth, he was screwed.

Across the room, Gwaine stirred, stretching and yawning as he clambered to his feet, looking none the worse for wear after a night spent drinking and then sleeping in a tavern.

He wandered over to wear Merlin had sunk to the floor, head in hands. "What's up, Merlin?" he asked cheerily. "You look a little worried."

Merlin let out a hollow laugh. "A little worried?" He looked up at Gwaine with a face drawn with pain. "Arthur's practically banging down the door, when he gets in he's going to kill me, and I think my head's going to implode."

"Implode?" asked Gwaine curiously. "Why not explode?"

"Because if my head were to explode, I'd have to clean it up."

Gwaine laughed, placing a comforting hand on Merlin's head then quickly removing it as his hand touched the sticky, congealed alcohol residue there.

"Does this mean you don't want to... what did you say... 'come out drinking with me again because it's so much fun'?" laughed Gwaine.

Merlin shook his head. "Never again," he whispered emphatically. "Never again."

 


	9. abridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote this chapter I was sick, hah...

**_ abridge _ **

Arthur sniffed pathetically, reaching for a tissue and blowing his nose loudly. He slumped back into his pile of pillows, cold and shivering despite the layers of blankets and covers. He closed his aching eyes, feeling very sorry for himself.

A knock on the door sent a burst of pain shooting through his sore head. "Come in," he croaked hoarsely. Sir Leon, the captain of the guards, poked his head tentatively around the edge of the door.

"I have the daily report, sire," he said, looking alarmed at Arthur's condition. "But I can come back later if you want..."

"No it's alright Leon," mumbled Arthur, hauling himself upright, horrified at his own weakness. But just give me the abridged version, please? And if Gwaine is involved at all, please save it for tomorrow."

Leon glanced down at the list in his hand, mentally crossing off half of the items. "Umm... Well, all is good in the lower town. One man slipped on a patch of ice and broke his arm, but he was taken straight to Gauis so he's fine. Preparations for the Yule celebrations are under-way with very little mishaps. People are saying that it looks like snow, but we are well-stocked with food and other assorted things so we should be okay on that front..." Leon scanned the list. Gwaine had knocked over some stalls while chasing a man who hadn't actually stolen anything. Gwaine had broken the chandelier while swinging from it. Gwaine had twisted his ankle climbing a tree..."That's all, sire."

Arthur nodded, eyes drooping. "Thank you Leon," he said, sneezing. "And could you ask Merlin to bring me a hot drink please?"

"Oh," said Leon, remembering. "Merlin's waiting outside the door; he said he'd wait til I was done." Arthur smiled despite himself.

"Okay, send him in."

Leon dropped his head respectfully and left. Merlin stepped into the room, carrying a tray carefully in his hands. He gently bumped the door closed with his hip and walked over to the bed.

Arthur glowered at him. "You idiot," he said, but it was weak, and lacking its usual venom. He sneezed.

Merlin chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He sat the tray down on the red quilt, taking various items off of it and putting them on bedside table.

Arthur grimaced at the sight of the strange coloured concoctions and pastes. "Do I have to take them?"

Merlin smiled. "No, those are from Gauis. He'd probably like you to at least try them, but I have something else." He gingerly lifted a mug over to Arthur's lips. "Here, taste this."

Arthur frowned. "Can't you just magic me better?"

Merlin frowned at him. "No, if I magicked you better every time you caught a common cold your immune system would be completely incapable of fighting off anything. Now drink this."

Arthur grumbled under his breath but obediently took a sip and then gasped in surprise as the heat spread through his body. "Oh that's  _fantastic,_ "he said, taking another drink. It tasted like lemon and honey, with hints of other herbs as well. As daft as it seemed, he could actually feel it working already.

He drank the rest of the mug without saying anything, then flopped back on the cushions, exhausted but already feeling better.

Merlin put the empty mug down on the table and gently tucked the covers around Arthur. "Sleep, and you'll be better when you wake up." He bent his head, pressing a kiss into Arthur's hair.

Arthur smiled, eyes already closed, and feel asleep with Merlin's hand in his.


End file.
